


Once bitten, Twice shy

by junebugtwin



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Cult, Cultural Differences, Daisyfall has had a rough life ok, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Murder, POV Original Character, Reincarnation, Slice of Life, Sort Of, Time Travel, War, War is hell, eventually fluff but now right now, murder cats, technically takes place at the lakeside clans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:53:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22344397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junebugtwin/pseuds/junebugtwin
Summary: She was alone. Covered in blood and tears and smelling like her own guts, her brothers lifeless corpse inches away from her snout. Her mentor abandoned her- called her disloyal, weak, unworthy.If she had lived a different life she would have cried. She would have sobbed for the innocent kit she was no longer, for what her life could have been, for the her that never existed, and the loving mentor who never loved. For the blood she had spilled and had taken from her, from the hurt and the agony and the shaking and the terrors. If not for the simple pain of dying alone and unloved and afraid- made a warrior far too early.As it was she kept her eyes open for as long as possible, willing her spirit to curse the lands, to curse her mentor, to curse everyone who hadn’t cared enough or hadn’t even cared at all.She died with a snarl on her muzzle and dry furious eyes.----In a universe where Thunderclan becomes something darker, a young warrior named Daisyfall dies. Somewhere very far away, a kit is born. It turns out second chances are not all they're cracked up to be.
Kudos: 10





	1. Death and Damnation

**Author's Note:**

> I'm obsessed with fics where characters go through immense trauma and then either go back in time, or reincarnate. So. This is that- but like, with warrior cats. And also, world building, because I just can't help myself.

Daisyfall growled so low in her throat the sound shook her whole body with the force, baring her teeth in pure hatred. The black furred tom in front of her didn’t even pause, ripping his teeth out of her brothers throat with brutal efficiency, not bothering to make his corpse a pretty one.

Daisyfall had previously thought all her stupid weakness had been shattered by her training, wiped away clean by the war- making her stronger, harder, better. A _real_ warrior- not afraid of death, or blood, or cruelty. And then her mentors teeth were dripping with her brothers still warm blood.

She froze in the spot she laid dying, eyes wide open with horror, ears pinned back against her skull. This didn’t mean anything, it didn’t- he brother was a coward and a traitor and- and- and

and she loved him. Or she did once. And Juniperpelt- had-

Right in front of her. She was dying, bleeding out quickly, her vision growing dim, her paws getting cold- why couldn’t he have…

Why hadn’t he waited until she was dead? He knew- he _knew_ -

Her fur bristled and she glared, promising to kill him a thousand times with just her look. He taught her, talked to her, practically raised her- he was a honourless, foxhearted sapling legged bastard rat- _fucker_ and she was going to rip his kin slaying teeth right out of his lying mouth.

Cold yellow eyes stared back at her, once described as looking so like her own. He stood, making no move towards her, or back to the battle that presumably still raged on outside of her dimming eyesight.

“My…brother..” She choked, partly out of swallowing blood, partly out of hesitance to express her anguish to the tom whom she had once so respected, and now despised. He stared at her for a moment, contemplatively, a familiar expression he often wore when he had been deciding how to explain a particularly difficult lesson. She nearly cried at the intense surge of grief the memories brought.

“I doubted your loyalty to the prophesied. I saw how you were with Amberpaw, you still had unpure thoughts of him.” Juniperpelt explained calmly, like he was commenting on the weather. Daisyfall hissed, the gaping wound in her stomach being the only force stopping her from exploding to her feet in her rage.

“I was never anything but devoted to the cause! I spent every day in training, I did everything you asked of me, I _never_ hesitated! “ She breathed raggedly for a moment, struggling to maintain her composure as the pain in her stomach became close to unbearable, like she had swallowed fire.

“…Yes I… was fond of my brother…but I never would have- I took a wound that would have slain you and you _killed_ him in front of me you blood gasping kit killer!” She yowled her voice growing raspy from so much use- she wasn’t normally prone to yelling. Her mentor sighed, beginning to turn away, and Daisyfall felt a flare of anxiety- he wasn’t even going to watch her fade away?

“This is why. Far too emotional to serve the greater good. I had hoped I’d weeded it out of you… perhaps this was the best turn of events.” He said quietly, now fully turned away, his voice perfectly neutral. Daisyfall had lost all feelings in her limbs and her mind was starting to feel oddly numb, like she had just dunked in into the winter spring.

“You’re not worth calling a medic over now I suppose.” He said amicably, and then left, black tail disappearing behind the set of grey rocks that surrounded them.

Dasiyfall gasped frantically, feeling colder and colder, her breath elusive- hard to catch like a quick mouse tangling beneath her paws. She always knew she might die- she had prepared for it, expected it, was honored by the prospect of sacrificing herself for the Great Prophecy- but- this

She was alone. Covered in blood and tears and smelling like her own guts, her brothers lifeless corpse inches away from her snout. Her mentor abandoned her- called her disloyal, weak, unworthy. She was in enemy territory, surrounded by cold rocks and dull cliffs, with an overcast sky circling lazily down over her- not ever raining- just a still placid grey.

And she was going to die. And she wasn’t going to be remembered, and she wasn’t going to Starclan. She would be erased from existence, like every other traitor. Like her brother.

If she had lived a different life she would have cried. She would have sobbed for the innocent kit she was no longer, for what her life could have been, for the her that never existed, and the loving mentor who never loved. For the blood she had spilled and had taken from her, from the hurt and the agony and the shaking and the terrors. If not for the simple pain of dying alone and unloved and afraid- made a warrior far too early.

As it was she kept her eyes open for as long as possible, willing her spirit to curse the lands, to curse her mentor, to curse everyone who hadn’t cared enough or hadn’t even cared at all.

She died with a snarl on her muzzle and dry furious eyes.


	2. Rebirth and Rearangements

She heard voices, but only for a moment, and they were muddled and faded, like the cats were talking under water.

“We can’t trust the likes of her!” Someone older and gruff snapped.

“We have no choice my dear. She has a soul strong enough.” A soothing female voice cooed, and Daisyfall couldn’t have been more confused about what was happening.

“A strong soul, but a black one. Hopefully that will be enough.” Rang out a clear firm voice, sounding somehow tired and optimistic all at once.

That was all she heard before she was plunged back into a calming deep darkness, her consciousness blessedly falling asleep once more.

* * *

Daisyfall awoke to more darkness, though not so inky as the void she had been comfortably curled in. It was dim, some sort of den she guessed, weakly blinking at her surroundings. She- her eyes were, well, not sore exactly, but feeble, and she could barely see the dirt of the den walls surrounding her. Her hearing was hampered as well, the sounds around her slightly muffled.

She stirred slightly before freezing. Wait.

How was she alive? How was she not-

The wound she received had been fatal, she had felt herself go- it had been horrible and miserable and achingly lonely- what- how could she be still alive?

And why wasn’t she in immense agony? There was no dandelion, dock leaf, or poppy seed under all of Starclans eyes that could block out that much pain.

And who would have healed her? Certainly no one from the rebellion, or from Riverclan for that matter. And her mentor had made it perfectly clear where her position was now in the cause. Trampled underfoot. She felt a pulse of burning disgust with the two faced bile eater, repulsed and angered to sickness even at the thought of his impartial face. She loved him. How _dare_ he… she’d kill him. He’d regret ever betraying her- she’d kill him and she’d return back to the order and beg to be let in- if she worked things correctly she could even frame him. He was a bastard, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still believe in the Prophecy or Silverwatcher.

She just had to…figure out where she was and who had saved her- considering her choices, she highly suspected she’d been recuperated by the rebellion only to be tortured for information. That was the only logical conclusion.

Logical but unpleasant.

Daisyfall carefully peered around her, trying to get a good look at her situation without letting her captors realize she was awake. She had to get as much information as she could if she wanted to escape and make it back to the cause. Perhaps she could even spot some vital intelligence and bring it back to Silverwatcher and Owleyes and be welcomed with curled tails.

The den she was in was surprisingly warm, with moss surrounding her on all sides- very soft moss, bless the stars- what kind of plants were the resistance getting in leaf fall that the rest of them were missing?

Weakly she moved her head up against the soft moss on her side to try to peek out at the direction that the golden light was coming from. She froze abruptly, when instead of moving her head on top of some weirdly comfortable moss, she slammed face first into a soft fluffy belly. Of a cat. A cat that was very much alive.

She remained as still as possible, back extremely tense, even as she breathed in the comforting scent of clover and milk. -Milk?! MiLk??

What was a guardian doing in the den where they were keeping prisoners of war?! That was beyond unsafe, it was idiotic! Plus when she woke they were practically cuddling! What had this poor guardian done to get such harsh treatment- and from her own cats! Cats that were supposedly all bleeding hearts compared to the righteous causes more battle hardened warriors.

Even cats like Darkjaw and Mothspot wouldn’t carry out a punishment so cruel, if not simply because Darkjaw had a fairly good relationship with his own Guardian and Mothspot had her own personal code about harming anything even vaguely related to kits.

Juniperpelt would have called it a waste of resources.

Putting the thought quickly out of her head she warily went back to exploring her odd prison. The cat she was mushed up against hadn’t so much as stirred in their slumber, and she had been still for quite some time. She just had to be smart about this- slowly she craned her head, turning to look to her other side.

If she had been surprised that a guardian was in here with her, her breath had been taken straight out of her throat entirely at the sight of kits. Kits that surely couldn’t be more than a moon or two old, given the look of their pudgy bodies, soft fluffy fur, and slightly folded ears.

The two kits beside her were sleeping peacefully, unaware that they laid uncomfortably close to an enemy of their hodge-podge of clans. Both were tabbies, though the one closest to her had more grey-ish fur and the one farther away had more of a brown tint. The brown one had a white spot on their muzzle.

She couldn’t even conceive of this type of stupidity. Despite the fact that the cause was forbidden to kill or harm kittens, she had been called ‘kit-killer’ from more resistance members than she could count- and now they were placing her directly in a den with two. Was this some sort of horrible test? For what purpose?? Her ears bent back in confusion, white whiskers twitching in-

White whiskers. Her whiskers were clear. Why were her whiskers white.

Daisyfall practically went cross eyed frantically trying to observe the end of her snout. What sort of weird trick of the light?-In her movement she accidentally had twitched her head a bit downwards and felt her heart speed up to a truly unhealthy rate at the sight of her own paws.

They were brown. Well, they were sort of gingery-brown and had dark charcoal stripes- but- but

SHE WASN’T A TABBY! SHE WASN’T BROWN! HER WHISKERS WEREN’T WHITE!

What in Starclans wisdom was happening to her?! Was she hallucinating? Was she still bleeding out on that grey battle field, and this was the incredibly odd and specific comfort her addled brain was coming up with?

Hysterical, she jerked her paw forward, horrified that it followed her command perfectly. It really _was_ hers. And not just that but it was- it was fat, and small, and fuzzy-

oh.

oh no.

She was a kit. That’s why she was curled up beside a guardian, resting beside two other precious kits. Because she was one herself.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

She could- she could figure this out, she- she just had to think.

Why would she be a kit. That was sort of the first thing, to ah, to figure out.

So she was either dreaming or hallucinating- or she was dead. She was dead and re-living her life? No she was a calico not a tabby. So. So she was reincarnated? She thought that was just a silly elders tale, but apparently-

What did any of this have to do with the cats mysteriously whispering about her when she was…unconscious? Or was she dead at that point? But then those cats would have been- been Starclan cats, and well. Firstly they didn’t _sound_ very divine. She had pictured their voices being ethereal and alien and hard to comprehend, not a bunch of exhausted cats sitting and arguing.

Why did she have ‘a strong soul’ and what did that even mean for her right now? Plus since her mentor dismissed her from the ranks her consciousness should have just disappeared into the void, she shouldn’t have been able to hear Starclan cats, and she certainly shouldn’t have been reincarnated, if that’s what this was.

Maybe she just needed more time, more information. Maybe this would all make sense in a moment?

Ha. Not likely.

She went to move her body to a standing position to get a better look at what it was that was outside of the den when the guardian in front of her abruptly woke up.

Large olive eyes peered startlingly affectionately down at her, mouth curling into a kind smile. Daisyfall felt an odd stabbing emotion in her heart at the expression- when was the last time anyone had looked at her like _that_? Even her own guardian had been more business-like and professional about her charges.

Oddly, she noted that the larger cat had sleek oaken colored fur with black tabby stripes and a white chest- she looked exactly like Daisyfall and the kits beside her- who she supposed were her littermates. Why did they all look so similar? It was almost like they were all related. It was eerie.

“Hello little one, have a pleasant nap?” The- well, she supposed ‘her’ guardian cooed, looking vaguely amused at whatever expression Daisyfall herself was sporting. Blanket confusion probably. Bewilderment.

She hadn’t really had a pleasant nap, considering she had to have the flesh from her chest to her lower stomach ripped bloodily open for her to have it- but she couldn’t exactly say that, especially if this was some sort of bizarre reincarnation situation.

“Kinda.” She replied honestly- the actual ‘sleeping in a dark void’ bit had actual been somewhat restful.

Her guardian chuckles and sweetly licks her forehead, combing the frazzled down like fur back into position. Daisyfall’s throat feels caught at the sensation, longing blooming on her so strongly she has to hold it forcibly back. What’s wrong with her? She’s almost cried multiple times within the last few hours- albeit on her death bed it would be a bit more expected- this type of sentimentality was supposed to be all wiped out of her- it had been! Was this kit body making her warrior mind weak to her base emotions?

“Only kind of huh? Well my dear, you should close your eyes and have another try then.” Her overly kind guardian whispered, obviously trying to keep her voice from waking the other kits. Not that it mattered much- they were snoring softly beside them without a care in the world.

Dasiyfall yawned despite her best efforts, feeling exhausted from her worry alone. She hadn’t done anything but look around a bit for a few minutes and already she was tired enough to go to bed.

She’d…she’d figure this out in the morning. For now she should sleep, conserve her strength. Starclan had chosen to give her a second chance- she was going to make sure Juniperpelt regretted it.


	3. Limitations and Liabilities

Daisyfalls eyes sprung open as a soft paw was shoved rudely in her face. One of her…siblings she supposed, or the sibling of the body she was in- had kicked her right in the nose. She let out a low warning hiss but it came out more like a pathetic shushing noise than anything.

She twitched her tail in irritation, noting that the kit who was culprit- the greyish one- didn’t even so much bother to give her a second glance as it suckled. It seemed all was fair when there was only half a mouse. She huffed, feeling slightly awkward about feeding like a kit again, but acknowledging that there really wasn’t any other way to do things- she was at most a month and a bit old, her teeth couldn’t perish even the softest prey yet.

It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, though she got much more milk than she had thought was normal- but then her original litter had been of six, and her current guardian was only nursing three. The thought was immensely pleasing- the resistance had much less resources than they had feared! Probably had to do with their apparently irrational mate processing system. Snowshine had always been repulsed by what little she did learn about the rebellions guardian discipline- she had never asked exactly what had the Head so upset, but she could only assuming it was egregious. She’d probably see for herself- if she ever got out of this fucking cave.

Daisyfall unsteadily lumbered to her paws, frowning unhappily at the way her legs clumsily didn’t maneuver the way she wanted them to. She nearly growled as she finally righted herself- albiet shakily- to a standing position. All she did was get up normally, and already she could feel herself grow wary from the strain. It was like training with Sparkstripe all over again- being pushed to her limits physically every day, until bit by bit she improved. Except for back then she was barely able to move because her entire body was covered in bruises and claw marks, all that was affecting her now was her pitiful stamina and wobbly muscles.

Daisyfall took a deep breath and began to precariously stumble towards her guardian- who was, quite inconveniently- blocking the way out of the den. She’d have to crawl over the tabby if she wanted any chance of investigating her knew surroundings. Trouble was, she wasn’t a hundred percent certain she could actually pull that off, considering her current capabilities.

The she-cat turned to her, blinking in surprise before smiling with amazement.

“Look at you! Already on a warpath!” She laughed, mossy eyes twinkling with pride. Daisyfall almost snorted at the comment- she had _no_ idea.

She continued to toddle towards her caregiver, not even bothering to reply to the encouraging statement. Her own guardian didn’t let them out of the den to look around until they were exactly two moons old, and she was starting to suspect- given her shitty blurry senses and her baby deer legs- that she was actually much less than that. Not very encouraging- and not very helpful in getting revenge or information.

At her first cautious pawstep onto her guardians somewhat swelled tummy she was apprehended, picked up oh so carefully by the scruff and gently brought back down to the soft moss of the den. Away from the light.

Daisyfall glared up at her new warden reproachfully, small tail puffed and sticking straight up in offense. The she-cat actually had the audacity to giggle, mirth firmly locked on her expression even when she stopped.

“Feisty thing aren’t you? Unfortunately I think the outside would be a bit much at this point. Why the hurry?” She meowed calmly, a soft pink paw pad guiding her tranquilly back into the cuddled pile that her siblings were mushed into at their guardians side.

Daisyfall felt a distinct spike of annoyance and frustration- ‘ _why the hurry_?’- Starclan bless her, if only she had the strength for that explanation. But- but she couldn’t just sit around here doing kit things all day could she? She’d go mad! She didn’t even remember much of what she did at this age to keep herself entertained, played with Amberpaw she supposed. Or Amberkit back then. Daisyfall felt a prick of sorrow jab into her side and actively fought the miserable tremors that wanted to rake her body.

He’d never even gotten his warrior name, thanks to those starless bastards. Her mentor may have killed him, but the rebels had cursed him to dying without even a proper name.

She curled into a ball, trying to ignore the cold that had suddenly overcome her, despite being literally swaddled between warm bodies and comfortable fluff.

It was fine. She would get revenge. His spirit could rest perhaps, if she proved herself to Starclan. Maybe they’d take pity on him if he was related to her- as long as she made them proud.

Daisyfall shifted uncomfortably, wiggling her paws to retrieve them from under the kit they were pinned under. She’d have to try again when she woke up next- hopefully if she just kept attempting to escape her Guardian would let her have a peek- that or get sloppy and she’d bust out on her own.

She wasn’t stupid enough to try and make her way back to the Order, not when she was no bigger than a squirrel and ten times as fragile- but she needed to get a good look around, observe her surroundings carefully- in order to be a useful informant she had to actually _have_ information.

Plus it would be nice to know where exactly she was. This obviously wasn’t in the Prophesied Ones camp, considering that all the Guardians there shared one big den rather than wastefully splitting up smaller ones. But she could be in Riverclan, or the Resistance. She hoped it was the latter, Riverclan would, of course, be dealt with eventually, but the Resistance was a much more pressing matter, considering they were actually fighting back.- so any data she could steal from right under their tails would be much more valuable.

There was even a chance she was a clanless bastard- a rouge or a loners miserable kit. If that was the case she wasn’t sure what her options were- she wouldn’t want to tarnish the Eyes of StarClan by talking to her, even if she had intelligence. But then surely Owleyes had some sort of system for this sort of thing? She wracked her brain desperately, trying to recall any information on the subject, but after a moment she visibly slumped, coming up empty.

Sparkstripe and Dapplesky were her test mentors, and Juniperpelt was her official- so that made two in Advising and one in the skills of battle- and her brother had only had Iceberry- a Medic- before he abandoned the Cause. Not a shred of Investigator knowledge, even between them.

She huffed, but was cut off mid exhale as one of her siblings- the brown one this time- turned over, cuddling their small head into her chest. Daisyfall quieted for a moment, staring down at the peaceful form nestled into her. That was…sort of cute. Maybe she could reclaim her new siblings for the sake of the Cause when she snuck away, given training they could become proper warriors. After all, there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with them, unless they were half-bloods they had done nothing wrong just by being born. They still had a chance.

Daisyfall closed her eyes, hoping as she tried to sleep, that she did as well.


End file.
